Stories in Verse Part 15

Then all the sky grew dark, and from the land Malignant terrors drove me shrieking forth; And as I fled, my youth abandoned me; My hair turned gray, my shoulders stooped, my blood Grew colder, and my perfect form was changed.

A weak old man with wrinkled face, I fled, To wander in the wastes. Once I looked back Upon the garden; over it the sky Was soft and clear; and midway in the air I saw Veera between two angels, borne To heaven. So I turned again and fled.

XIV.

"LONG LIVE THE KING."

I came at last to Mesched. It was night.

The moon, half-shadowed, trailed its silver robe Over the tower above the eastern gate, And there revealed the outlines of a skull Set on a spear. The portals were unbarred.

I pa.s.sed the arch, but in the shadow kept, While on the flinty wall I edged my knife.

Then I crept on until I gained the porch Of the great palace. There I smote the guard, And entering in, sought out the sleeping king.

Deep in his heart I plunged my thirsty knife.

All the next day I sat before the gate, And begged, and heard the rumors of the town; Then, standing forth, I claimed to be their king, And told them all my story to the end.

None pitied the dead ruler, for he knew No pity while he lived. So I was king at last; But all my life, and all my hope to me Are dust and ashes, knowing that G.o.d's frown Abides upon me. Would that I could die!

There is no kindlier spirit than content.

And there is nothing better in the world Than to do good, and trust in G.o.d for all.